Reading The Philosophers Stone
by MapleMischief
Summary: Hi, it's Maple here. I've been reading a lot of the 'Characters read the books' fics lately, and I thought I'd give it a shot. No others had the characters reacting the way I felt like they should, but some of them were insanely funny, so I decided to write my own. Eventually, I'll do all 7 books. First ever fanfiction! *dances in front of computer* Anyways... Peace, Maple
1. Prolouge

**Reading the Philosophers Stone**

**Hi, its MapleMischief here. This story is one I've been wanting to write for a while – you know, the whole "characters read the book" thing. This is my first fanfiction, so any feedback is appreciated. If you think it's horrible – tell me! I promise I won't cry *sobs* anyways, any pointers or anything like that would be cool, so please – REVIEW! OR DA COOKIE MONSTAH WILL EATZ YOU! ; )**

**P.S I'll try and update once a week - maybe sooner if I'm not to busy with schoolwork. *groans* This chapter is just the intro, so it's really short. :\ the others will be quite a lot longer though, so don't worry. ;)**

**Set after The Goblet of Fire – Sirius is still alive. :D**

**Chapter One: Introductions**

-FLASH- a dozen people appeared in a barren room and looked around in shock. Hermione Granger stood and looked around. What she saw was impossible. Standing there with her was Sirius Black (in dog form of course), Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, a man that looked like Harry that she supposed was James Potter, and the woman standing next to him Lily, Malfoy, Fred and George, Ginny, Professor McGonagall, The Dursleys, Lupin, Hagrid, Ron and Harry. Everyone was standing there confused, but Harry was still on his back. She pulled him to his feet. Hi eyes stopped on Sirius. "Si- Padfoot!" he ran over and to everyone's surprise, hugged the large black dog. The dog nuzzled against him and Harry stepped back grinning. His gaze turned to the others standing there and his eyes grew wider. Lily rushed over. "Hello Harry."

Once everyone had hugged a sufficient amount of times they all sat down. Harry sat next to his parents and Ron, The Dursleys as far away as they could get from 'Those weirdos.' Vernon and Petunia were glaring daggers at the Potters. "Does anyone know why the bloody hell we're trapped here?" Vernon grunted. "No. Shut up." He turned to face Hagrid's glaring face. Hagrid disliked the Dursleys immensely, even before he heard what it was like for Harry there with them. Hermione sighed. "Maybe if everyone stopped glaring at each other we could figure out what we're doing here." Everyone jumped as a TV screen flickered on and showed a girl staring out at them. "Nice one Hermione." She grinned. "Hello all of you. I'm Maple, and I brought you here to read about the past, and eventually the future. Here are seven books." The girl waved her hand and seven thick books appeared into the table in front of them. "Once you have read the first book the locking charm on the next book will dissolve. The books are set in Harry's point of view, and the first book is about his first year. Good luck, and good bye." The screen flickered off. "Well, this'll suck."

**Thank you, and goodbye!**

**-Maple**


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**Reading the Philosophers Stone**

**Hi, it's Maple again. I've been clicking away at my keyboard for _ages _writing this, and I hope it's up to standard :) As promised, here is chappy two, within a week! (I'm so proud of myself! :') ) let me know if there is any way I could improve it, or if you think some of them were a bit OOC.  
****Without further adieu, Here is chapter Two! (I'm a poet and I didn't know it!) ^-^**

**Oh yeah, I DONT OWN HARY POTTER! *Runs away sobbing***

**Chapter One**

**Text in bold is from the book, normal is my own writing.**

"I think I will read first, shall I?" Asked Dumbledore. He walked over to the table and picked up the first book. He perched his half-moon glasses on his nose and began. "It is called _Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone_." He looked at Harry, amused. Everyone sat up straighter and listened intently, even the Dursleys. "Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived."

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. **

Everyone looked at the Dursleys, curious.

**They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. **

"Boring!" Shouted George

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. **

At that everyone grinned.

**Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. **

"What a lovely woman." "Hey! That's my wife!"

**The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. **

"What could possibly be so bad about them!?" glared Hermione. "Yeah!" Harry shouted. "We're awesome!" everyone rolled their eyes.

**Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, **

Hermione sniffed.

**Because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.**

Harry snorted. "No kidding."

**The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. **

Hermione was starting to look dangerously angry, and Ron edged away from her.

**This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.**

The black dog growled at the Dursleys, teeth bared and the Dursleys found themselves under the glare of many dangerous looking witches and wizards. They shifted, uncomfortable.

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, **

"Charming." Said Fred and George.

**And Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. **

"Of course." Sniffed Malfoy. "Muggles are so thick."

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. **

McGonagall looked shocked.

** Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. **

Harry laughed "D-Dudley! Little!" everybody laughed except for the Dursleys, Vernon's face turning redder by the second.

**He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map. **

"Well, I wonder who that could be George." "I haven't a clue Fred!" they said, smiling at McGonagall. The Dursleys looked puzzled.

**For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen - then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. **

"Yeah, you just keep believing that."

**Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. **

"This one is kind of special." Grinned Harry. Everyone nodded in agreement.

**Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes - the getups you saw on young people! **

"Hey! What's wrong with cloaks!"

**He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. **

"Actually," stated Hermione. "It's hundreds of years old."

**He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! **

"Yes George, the nerve of him!" "I agree Fred – it's absolutely outrageous!" Everyone rolled their eyes ant the twins antics.

**But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt - these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. **

"One track mind set, this one." Smiled Lupin

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open- mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. **

"Charming."

**He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk **

"Wait, what!" gasped Harry

**Across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. **

"It's ok people! False alarm." Ron looked dangerously close to collapsing from holding in his laughter, and even McGonagall had a slight smile on her face.

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their son, Harry" Mr. Dursley stopped dead. **

"I wish."

**Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking...**

"Oh my god, could this get any weirder! Shouted Harry

**No, he was being stupid. **

"Another false alarm! Calm down everyone!"

**Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. **

"Wait, he didn't even know your name?" Hermione said angrily. Harry nodded.

**There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. **

"Wuss." Muttered Draco.

**He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that... **

"An' whas tha' supposed t' mean?!" spat Hagrid. James put an arm around Lily and everyone glared at Mr. Dursley.

**But all the same, those people in cloaks... He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, **

"Wow. And here I was thinking that all he could do is point t things and grunt."

**As the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle **

"His arms fit?!" Malfoy snorted. "Probably not."

**And walked off. Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. **

"He doesn't approve of imagination." Fred gasped.

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. **

"Ladies and gentlemen – The death look of Professor McGonagall!" Harry exclaimed. McGonagall gave him the death look and Harry quickly sat back down.

** Was this normal cat behaviour? Mr. Dursley wondered. **

"No, but its normal teacher-cat behaviour!"

**Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!").**

"Lovely kid."

** Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight." Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters... **

"If an idiot like Mr. Dursley over there can figure it out, how long till others do too?" whispered Ron.

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. **

"Again, he's a wuss." Stated Draco.

**"Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister. "No," she said sharply. "Why?" "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."**

McGonagall frowned. "Funny looking?!" Vernon shifted, uncomfortable.

** "So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley. "Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd." Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. **

"One more time – He's a wuss."

**Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?" "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?" "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it. **

The Dursleys found themselves under the unflinching glare of ten witches and Wizards.

**The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. **

"He just jinxed it."

**The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... **

Again, the Dursleys were glared at. This had been happening a lot.

**He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over - it couldn't affect them... How very wrong he was.**

"See!"

** Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. **

George whistled. "Wow."

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. **

"Apparated" said Hermione.

**The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. **

"Three times actually" stated Dumbledore.

**This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. **

Fred and George grinned at each other. "Awesome."

**He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." **

"Wait – you're the cat?!" Mr. Dursley said dumfounded, staring at McGonagall. She nodded. "Show him! Show him! Show him!" McGonagall sighed. "Alright." She shifted, and transformed into a tabby cat – the one described in the book. "Wicked." She turned back and smiled.

**He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

"All day?!"

**"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. **

"Well, most of them aren't." stated George, looking at Vernon.

**They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." "I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?" "It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" "A what?" "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of" "No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. **

Everyone laughed. "Well, it wasn't!" said McGonagall, rather defensively.

**"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -" "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." **

Everyone in the room flinched except for Harry, Dumbledore and the Dursleys.

**Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name. "I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." "Only because you're too - well - noble to use them." "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." **

Everyone burst out laughing, and it took a good five minutes before everyone was calm again. But of course, Fred had to ruin it and shout out "EARMUFFS!"

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" **

Everyone looked saddened for a moment, except the Dursleys, who as always, looked confused.

**It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead. " Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone. **

Dudley looked at Harry, dumbfounded.

**Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?" "We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?" "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now." "You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. **

"Charming."

**Harry Potter come and live here!" "It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter." "A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous – a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!" "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it. "Hagrid's bringing him." "You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

Hagrid puffed out his chest and looked extremely proud with himself.

**"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?" A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild – long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets. "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me.**

James Potter looked at the Black Dog, smiling.

**I've got him, sir." "No problems, were there?" "No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

Hermione and Ginny awed and Harry groaned.

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. "Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever." "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss.**

Malfoy snorted.

** Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog. "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!" "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -" "Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out. **

Everyone in the room seemed to be getting depressed at that point, even the Dursleys. (But that was mostly because Vernon had just noticed Fred and George running around insulting his moustache.)

**"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir." Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four. "Good luck, Harry," he murmured. **

"I'll need it."

**He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"**

**This Chappy was a lot longer. :D Hope you enjoyed it,**

**-Maple**


	3. The Vanishing Glass

**Hi again, Maple here. This Chapter is dedicated to my first two reviewers. The awesome and amazing Sunshine72 and MyHarryPotterAddiction. You guys are my first reviewers ever! :') I'm glad you both enjoyed it, and MyHarryPotterAddiction, thanks for the idea. To be honest, I kind of forgot about Sirius. Your suggestion will happen in this chapter, but it's a little bit of a filler while I write the next chapter. Peace, Maple.**

**Chapter Two**

Padfoot **(A.N. I decided to call Sirius Padfoot when he's in dog form.)** Put a comforting paw on Harry's knee. He looked quite sad. Just then Sirius made a decision. It was a stupid one, yes, but it was a decision nonetheless. He stepped back and turned into his human form. Malfoy gasped. "S-s-Sirius Black!" he stuttered. He stepped backwards, falling over his chair, but he scampered to his feet and whipped out his wand. "Why isn't anyone else doing anything? He's a murderer!" "Because Malfoy, you git," started Ron "Sirius is Innocent. He was framed." "What! no." "It's true Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore replied. "Impossible." No, Malfoy, I assure you it is true." Maple walked out of a door that appeared on the far wall. She was wearing a t-shirt with a Maple leaf print, jeans and had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. "Sorry, the screen stopped working. I came to bring two new people here. She waved her hand and Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom appeared in the same blinding light that had brought the rest of them here. "Luna! Neville!" Hermione ran over and pulled them to their feet. "Right Woman! I demand that you let me and my family leave at once!" Vernon glared at Maple. "You would do well to remember, Dursley, not to aggravate people infinitely more powerful and epic than you." "BURN!" "Ronald!" Maple smiled and a door appeared next to the Dursleys. "This time you got lucky. I just want you gone. Next time however...  
The Dursleys hurried out the door, Vernon giving everyone one last glare. "Well, thank god they're gone!"

**Hope you enjoyed it, and next chap will be less of a filler :\**  
**See ya!**

**-Maple**


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